


There is no luck, there is the Force

by willowoak_walker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Double Agent Quinlan Vos, Fix-It, Gen, The Force, canon has been carved for juicy bits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-27 09:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30120366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowoak_walker/pseuds/willowoak_walker
Summary: Quinlan Vos hears something that changes the tide of the war. Well, ends the war.Unfortunately, it doesn't fix the Republic.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox/Agen Kolar, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-6454 | Ponds & Mace Windu, Jedi & Clones, clone family - Relationship, jedi family - Relationship
Comments: 33
Kudos: 124





	1. Quinlan Hears Who

Quinlan maintains his cocky smile by long habit as he wades into the darkness of Dooku’s castle. He’s early, and that might give him an opportunity. The Force tugs at him, and he trusts it even now. He follows, wrapping his presence in the ambient darkness to hide.

The Force leads him to the Dooku’s comroom door, into which he once spent a very tedious few hours boring a tiny hole in the corner

He presses his ear to it now, and hears the voice of Dooku’s master. Sidious.

“-- You need only continue the war, and all will fall in time,” Sidious says in his oily politician’s voice.

“It goes well on your side, then, Master?” Dooku says, his tone cloying. “I’ve not heard any news...”

“All goes well indeed. You will hear within days of more emergency powers being granted me. After all, we need a strong Chancellor in these trying times.”

Quinlan used to be pretty good at not reacting, but as Sidious and Dooku burst into creepy laughter, he backs shaking away from the door.

By the time Dooku finishes his call – there’s at least four minutes more that Quinlan doesn’t dare listen to – Quinlan has calmed himself and resumed his cocky smile and usual posture, sprawling half across one of the benches in the waiting room. He’s finger knitting.

“Ah, my Apprentice,” Dooku says, smiling and hating him. “How did your mission go?”

Quinlan tells him.

  
  


“Knight Vos has managed a report,” Mace says to the two other Councilors on planet and to no holographic shadows.

“A concerning one, or you’d be calling him ‘Sources’ and we’d be talking to the rest of the council in the chamber,” Adi says, “What is it?”

“Chancellor Palpatine is Darth Sidious,” Mace says bluntly.

“Oh dear,” Shaak says. After a stunned moment, Adi nods.

“We need better proof of the Chancellor’s teachery, and I want to send Vos back the order to kill Dooku. Whether this is true or some clever falsehood, we know who Dooku _thinks_ his Master is. And Dooku himself is a legitimate military target.”

Adi nods. “No longer the shatterpoint of the war, but still a major leader.” 

They look at each other.

“It is no shame to grieve the man we once knew,” Shaak says. “We will not allow it to dissuade us from action,” Mace feels a touch of shame because he _did_ on Geonosis, but he lets it flow through him and into the Force, “But we can still regret that Yan Dooku is no longer our old friend.” 

Mace and Adi bow their heads and the Force rings, for a long moment, with aching grief.

“We’ll need to pry a Shadow loose from the war effort to study Palpatine, and it would be ideal if we could get some taps on the communications from his office to catch him in the act.” Adi says

“Surely he’s not fool enough to run both sides of the war from the same room,” Shaak says.

“His personal com would be better, I agree,” Adi says, “And his ship com, and every com he uses on Naboo – not that he’s been back recently...” She trails off, looking at Mace. “You have an idea.”

“I was talking to Anakin Skywalker recently,” Mace says, “And he’s still close to the Chancellor. How the man finds time I don’t know.” He chuckles, wryly. “But if we asked Anakin to beef up the Chancellor’s security, we could certainly get access to what he planned. Just to check it. And it’s reasonable to worry the Chancellor will be assassinated.”

“We could ask the Coruscant Guards if they’ve seen anything suspicious,” Shaak says. Trust her to remember the clones. Mace nods.

“And the Guards can access the droids, too,” Adi says.  They all nod, this time, and go their separate ways. 


	2. A Strange Request

Commander Fox keeps his helmet on. This is strange. The Coruscant Guard has little to do with the Jedi. Of course, the Jedi are still ranking officers, and the Generals can call on the Guard if they need to, but... This request is strange. He’s not often called to speak to a High General.

He salutes Ponds outside the High General’s office and assumes parade rest, waiting. Ponds knocks on the High General’s door, and gestures Fox in.

High General Windu is sitting at a desk cluttered with datapads, with one careful clear space surrounding a pot of tea. Other than the choice of drink, it looks much like Fox’s own desk. Where he wishes he were right now.

The High General gestures to the chair in front of the desk. “Please, sit,” he says, quite politely, “Thank you for making time in your busy schedule for me, Commander Fox. Would you like some tea?”

“Thank you, General,” Fox says, and sits, back straight.

Windu pours him some tea and sets the cup in front of Fox before refreshing his own. “I’ll be blunt – there’s a traitor in the Senate, and we need to know if you’ve seen anything suspicious.”

Fox blinks. “Do you intend to take our witness as evidence?”

General Windu blinks back. “At least evidence enough to start an investigation, as we would any sapient’s.”

Fox is very glad for his helmet, because he has no idea what his face is doing. “What kind of suspicious?”

“If anyone has been fool enough to openly talk about still being in contact with Separatists that would count, as we aren’t in negotiations,” General Windu looks briefly mad, then sighs and is calm again, “We have people following the money already, but if someone has been talking about secret money, that would count… Anything _you_ consider suspicious.”

“The Chancellor sometimes calls people who look suspiciously like the ones on our little list of most wanted. We can’t hear from the antechamber, but we can see the hologram.” Fox keeps his voice calm and his posture perfect, and waits to hear that the Chancellor is above suspicion.

Instead, Windu nods calmly. “That’s sloppy of him. Can you get a recording? Helmet camera?”

Fox nods back. “Sure. I have some here.”

Windu offers him a plug for a holocom, and settles back to watch. The recording isn’t clear on a com this size, but Windu nods anyway.

“That should persuade a cop when it’s zoomed up enough,” he says, “Do you have more?”

“Yes,” Fox says, “It’s become a bit of a game to get the best video. I’ll see who the current winner is.”

“Send it to me here, please,” Windu says, and offers a comcode tag. Fox nods, takes it. Hopes his hands aren’t shaking.

No accusation of failure. No disbelief.

“Is there anything the Jedi can do for the Coruscant Guard, Commander?”

Fox blinks again, brain temporarily empty. There must be something – oh. Maybe – “Could the Jedi hire low-level citizens to staff the food banks and soup kitchens? Or something? A job would keep them out of trouble, and people depend on those resources...”

Windu nods slowly. “We usually use that as a restful job for Jedi to take between stressful ones, but we’re not getting time between stressful jobs in the war. We could avoid closing some of them that way. Thank you, Commander Fox, I’ll look into it.” He glances at his piles of datawork. “Soon.” There’s an awkward moment of silence.

Fox breaks first.

“Is that all, sir?”

“Yes – oh, please keep this confidential. Of course.”

“Of course, sir,” Fox says, stands, salutes, and leaves the room.

Outside, he stares at Ponds and tries to collect himself.

“Bad news?” Ponds asks.

“No,” Fox says, “He just _saw_ me.”

Ponds nods. “Jedi’ll do that. Why don’t you head down to the commissary and get some good vode time?”

“Yeah,” Fox says. Other clones are just what he needs right now. “Thanks, vod.”

“Anytime,” Ponds says, and slaps his shoulder armor. “What vode are for.”


	3. How Many Caf

Captain Rex slumps down next to Fox, dropping his tray to the table with indifference.

“Guess what my General did this time,” Rex says.

“You know I can’t play that game with you,” Fox says, “I don’t have one.”

“No, no,” Rex says, and throws back his caf, “He’s going into your territory.”

“Found an excuse to spend more time with the Senator?” Fox says. He’s not covering for that if Windu asks.

And Windu could ask.

… He’ll do Rex the favor of not bringing it up.

“Maybe,” Rex says, “Found an excuse to spend more time with the _Chancellor_ , at any rate.” He shudders dramatically.

There’s not a clone decanted that doesn’t get the heebie-jeebies off the Chancellor.

“Sorry, vod,” Fox says, “You going to have to go with him?”

“He’s upgrading the security systems in the Chancellor’s office and apartment,” Rex says, “He might bring me to play pack mule. Or not. Some other Jedi is helping. Some kind of gadget wizard who’s too old to lead a battalion.”

“General Yoda’s about a thousand,” Fox says, reflexively.

Rex waves this off. “A human.”

Fox nods. “Does he… Does General Skywalker make you feel uncomfortably seen?”

Rex sighs. “Sometimes.” He stabs at his nutrition block. “When none of the people he actually cares about are in danger.”

“Oof,” Fox says. Some of the vode talk about their generals like older vode, almost. Some of them … don’t. Being trapped in between sounds awkward.

“The Commander sees me sometimes, too,” Rex says, “But when she doesn’t _see_ me she still sees me, if you know what I’m saying.”

“I don’t,” Fox says, “But I can live with that. How much caf am I going to need to deal with Skywalker up in my territory?”

“Depends on this other Jedi,” Rex says, “But I’m sorry to be feeding your addiction.”

“Not your fault,” Fox says.

It’s never a vod’s fault what trouble a natborn causes.

It’s only a three-extra-caf Skywalker Encounter because the elderly Twilek he’s shepherding around keeps calling Skywalker to heel. They get the Chancellor’s office wired up with extra cameras and some nasty traps, and the Twilek slips Fox a wink and a datastick on their way to the Chancellor’s opulent apartment.

Fox considers this for a long serious moment, before sticking the datastick into his datapad. It pulls up the feed for the new cameras, one of which is in perfect position to identify the face of the Chancellor’s caller.

Oh, nice.

There’s also a note that the Jedi investigators have a warrant for the tapes from those cameras, in proper Justice Department formatting and watermarking.

Even nicer.


	4. A Good Spider

Quinlan has kept a spider in his quarters for months, now, long enough that Dooku has gone from thinking of it as a threat to thinking of it as a foible.

It probably helps that he named it Sweetheart.

It’s a female chenna, native to Kiffu and mildly venomous – mildly to Kiffars, venomous to humans.

It arrived in a shipment of food from Kiffu, Dooku’s idea of a good way to congratulate his apprentice on a job well done.

Now, Quinlan carefully uses the Force to lower it into the sheets the droid is collecting from the linen closet. _Dooku’s_ sheets. 

A Jedi would probably be able to use the living Force to clear the venom from their system if they noticed in time, but the Dark Side doesn’t work that way.

Quinlan makes his own bed. Fetches his own sheets. Has for months.

HN 27 has no reason to be suspicious of his presence.

“Evening, 27,” he says.

“Good evening, young master,” 27 says, electronic voice grating, “Excuse me.”

Quinlan steps out of the way and waves the droid on. 

An hour later he stops his evening ramble outside Dooku’s room and settles into the Force.

There’s a single tiny spot of life in among the Darkness.

Sweetheart is in place.

Two hours after that the Darkness of Dooku’s fortress fills with pain and fury. There’s an outraged shriek of “ _ Quinlan!”  _ in there somewhere, too.

Quinlan gets up from his meditation and climbs the stairs to Dooku’s tower room.

Dooku is at the door, furious.

“Your kriffing spider got loose, apprentice.” Dooku seldom swears. Considers himself above it.

“I’m sorry, man,” Quinlan says, “Did you catch her?”

“I  _ killed  _ it,” Dooku says, “You don’t deserve to keep what you can’t control.”

Quinlan bows his head. Alas for Sweetheart.

Dooku sways in the doorway, snatching for the doorjamb. “What -”

Quinlan reaches to his belt. If this is going to become a lightsaber battle, it will be now. But Dooku sways backwards, face bluing, struggling to breath.

The Darkness roils and thrashes as Dooku reaches for the Living Force, but he’s too angry to reach it. He spasms. Quinlan keeps his distance.

Dooku’s eyes catch on him for a moment, and he struggles to mouth some dying curse. But the venom has him, and he’s gone.

The Force thrashes and roils as Dooku enters it, and Quinlan just barely manages not to throw up.  He heaves the corpse onto the bed and begins a professional search of the room.

_ Gloved. _ The last thing he needs right now is be caught in the psychometric shadows of Dooku’s death. Or his life, for that matter.

What Quinlan wants is evidence – a com code, a designated com, a diary, something – that points to Palpatine’s guilt.

He finds it not in the bedroom, but the com room, only the second place he checked.

Recordings of Dooku’s talks with Palpatine, saved perhaps for blackmail material.

They serve Quinlan’s purpose now.

And no-one bats an eye when he takes a ship and leaves, muttering about Dooku’s temper.

He’s Dooku’s apprentice, after all.

Quinlan meets Mace on a battlefield, landing his ship in the middle of a clump of battle droids. He seems … almost like his old self. His lightsaber is wrong, though, a harsh orange instead of green, and his eyes catch the light. 

They deal with the remainder of the mopping up together. Quinlan is willing to listen to Mace’s orders, and he seems… less frantic by the time they’re done. 

“I did it,” he says, “Well, Sweetheart did it. She was a good spider.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Mace says, not even slightly joking. “She is one with the Force.”

“Yeah,” Quinlan says. “Yeah.” His eyes are shining with something other than tears, and Ponds is standing very close to Mace.

“Let the Force take your pain,” Mace says, as he would to a youngling, “Feel it and let it go.”

Quinlan closes his shining eyes and breathes deeply. Slowly, the Force around them shifts.

Not  quite  as it would have, before.

“I need a mind healer,” Quinlan says with his eyes still closed.

“We’ll get you to one,” Mace promises.

“ Oh,” Quinlan says, “You’ll never guess what I found.” He opens his eyes and grins, almost normally.

“Hmm,” Mace says, “What do you think, Ponds? What did Quinlan find?”

“A pair of his aunt’s underwear in Dooku’s drawer,” Ponds says.

Quinlan’s face twists in comical disgust. “Why would you make me think that? That’s so gross!”

Mace chuckles and pats Quinlan’s shoulder. “Grosser for you than the rest of us, I’m afraid. What did you find?”

“Evidence,” Quinlan says, “Dooku recorded all his calls with – ” He glances at Ponds, “ – Sidious.”

“Ponds knows,” Mace says absently, “But we should take this somewhere private.”

“General,” Ponds says reprovingly.

“The Commander has a point, Master,” Quinlan says, “I  _ do  _ need to see that mind healer. But here.” He offers Ponds a datacube. “Set all your best slicers at seeing if it’s real. Please.”

“Your ability to do this so calmly is promising,” Mace says, “I have faith in your ability to return to us in fullness, Quinlan.”

“ Thanks, Master,” Quinlan says. “I want to walk in the Light again.”

“You will,” Mace says. He squeezes Quinlan’s shoulder.

That datacube is a shatterpoint, and Quinlan another one.


End file.
